


The Difficulties of Innovation

by MalkyTop



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, thieves being friends, what's better than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalkyTop/pseuds/MalkyTop
Summary: Yusuke learns of the existence of an entire art medium thanks to his new friends. For some reason, they seem extremely opposed to him pursuing it...





	The Difficulties of Innovation

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not into persona *writes a whole one-shot about a game she's never played*
> 
> (i'll...have another one piece thing finished eventually...i swear...)

“Why is your hair such a bright color?”

Ann and Ryuji pause in their conversation/bickering to blink at Yusuke. This is the first time he’s asked about personal details from any of us, our third meeting after the Madarame case. The two glance at each other and then look back at him.

“Me or him?” Ann points a finger at herself and Ryuji respectively.

“Both of you,” Yusuke responds, leaning back against the railing with a bag of chips dangling from his fingers. It looks like it might get dropped, but even as he gestures with it towards the two blonds of the team, it remains pinched in his grasp. “It is an uncommon hue, at least in my experience. How did you come by it?”

“’Come by it,’” Ryuji repeats in muttered disbelief. Morgana squints like he’s trying to glare, but it just looks adorable.

“Hello, this isn’t really a conversation to have for a meeting?” Morgana reminds. “We’re talking about what we’re doing next!”

“It’s natural,” Ann adds, twirling one of her pigtails around her finger, sounding like she’s speaking off a script. “I’m a quarter American, so that’s where it comes from.”

Yusuke closes his eyes with a quirk of a smile, as though some question of the universe has just been resolved. “I see.” With a formal swivel, he moves on to Ryuji. “Does this mean that you bear the blood of foreign ancestors as well?”

“Huh? No! It’s just dye! Why’re you askin’ _now_ all of a sudden!?”

But Yusuke’s only reaction is to widen his eyes and say, “Dye?” before bowing his head in furrowed thought.

“Uh, yeah. Hair dye. For, y’know, hair?” Seeing Yusuke’s expression only intensify in contemplation, Ryuji sighs up to the ceiling. “Is this guy for real?”

“No. I can totally believe he’s never heard of hair dye,” Ann replies, hand to her face, though there’s a subtle upwards curve to her lips.

“Alright, question answered. Can we get back to the topic at hand?” Morgana whined, waving for attention. Or just pawing the air. Both options adorable.

And to be fair, we do, leaning over the railing in a tight line, discussing our options. Ryuji’s in the middle of talking about Persons of Interest when he suddenly squawks and shoves Yusuke straight to the ground, who merely lets out a soft grunt, like he’s learned how to make his presence constantly small. Ann and I snap our heads toward the scene.

“Ryuji, what the hell!” Ann shouts immediately, grabbing him by the arm when he takes a step back. His lips are pressed thin, but he still points at Yusuke with some indignation.

“He just, effin’ _petted_ me!”

Morgana says, “So?” sounding distinctly unimpressed.

Yusuke is still not on his feet. He’s examining his hand instead, front and back. “None of the dye has rubbed off.”

“ _Hair dye doesn’t rub off!_ ” Ryuji shouts back. The other pedestrians using the accessway start shuffling by faster.

Ann chews on her bottom lip, her grip on Ryuji loosening slightly. “Okay, that _is_ weird, but knocking him to the ground’s still a little too much. Go apologize.”

“What!? He should apologize to _me!_ I didn’t mean to shove him, but maybe that’s just what happens when you _touch someone’s hair_ all of a sudden!”

Yusuke looks up at this, eyes as wide as when he learned about dyed hair. He doesn’t take my hand when I offer it, so I end up dragging him back up by his armpits. “Is a person’s hair an inappropriate point of contact?”

“Weellll,” Ann draws out, ambivalent.

“I don’t see a problem,” Morgana dismisses.

“’Cause you’re _all_ hair,” Ryuji snips back, finally slipping his wrist out of Ann’s hand before turning pleading eyes to me. “C’mon dude, help a guy out!”

> It’s wrong to shove.  
>  Don’t touch without permission.  
>  **> Both of you apologize.**

Ryuji’s face drops in slight disappointment, but he says, “Yeah...I guess...”

Yusuke immediately stiffens and bows. “I apologize for touching you in an inappropriate place.”

There is a collective hiss inwards. “Maybe word that a little better,” Morgana says from the railing.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly an ‘inappropriate place’ or anything,” Ann adds, “just, you should probably ask before touching someone.”

This information, Yusuke treats with some surprise. “I see...I shall remember that for the future.”

“You better,” Ryuji mutters. I nudge him with an elbow. “Oh. Uh. Sorry for shovin’ you an’ all. Didn’t mean to.”

“It is quite alright,” Yusuke says, brushing off his clothes with the usual poise. “I am ultimately unharmed.”

There is a pause as Yusuke finishes dusting his clothes and Ryuji awkwardly scratches his head and the rest of us thank god for the end of that, and then, “May I touch your hair, Ryuji?”

“Hell no!”

* * *

The next meeting, Yusuke is accompanied by a cumbersome bag. Morgana opens his mouth to start the meeting but ends up just gaping as Yusuke lets the bag drop, revealing a mess of colorful tubes in various states of use. A lot of them are stained.

Everybody waits for someone to ask The Question in an infinite Prisoner’s Dilemma-esque conundrum. Ryuji’s the first to crack, sighing as he does. “Dude, what the hell’s all that shit?”

“Well, I was going to broach the topic after the meeting, but since you ask, these are the various hues I happen to have.” Yusuke gestures grandly as though he’s presenting an entire marble statue instead of a bag on the ground.

There is another little Prisoner’s Dilemma before Ann dares to ask, “Why?”

Yusuke blinks, surprised he even has to explain to us, but he fixes his calm expression back in place and says, “The last time we met, I was informed of an entire artistic medium I had never considered before, and I was planning on inquiring whether Ryuji, as the individual who has introduced me to this new possibility, would be open to be the canvas upon which my experimentation may take place in order to further my studies.”

The longer the sentence goes on, the more Ryuji’s face scrunches, and it takes a few seconds afterwards for him to parse everything. But once he finishes mouthing the words to himself, he stiffens in horrified revelation. “You want to _dye my hair!?”_

Yusuke hesitates. “That is a simpler way of saying it, yes.”

“Did you seriously go out and buy all that hair dye in _one day?_ ” is Ann’s horrified revelation.

Yusuke hesitates again. “That was my intention, until I was made aware of the average price of a bottle.”

Looking closer, the tubes introduce themselves in terms such as ‘acrylic’ and ‘oil.’ Ryuji blanches. “Are ya tryin’ to _kill_ me!?”

There’s the wide-eyed surprise again, and Yusuke sounds genuinely offended when he splutters out a “No!”

“Yeah, uh. All of this is just gonna ruin his hair,” Ann adds, crouching down and rifling through the paint. Yusuke looks askance for a moment.

“I suppose I could find a way to budget for at least a small selection of proper dye...”

“Woah! Hey! I didn’t agree to anything!”

Yusuke’s mouth hangs open in pure betrayal. “Why not?”

“ _Why not?!”_ Ryuji shouts back, almost laughing in disbelief, before throwing his arms out. “Why _would_ I!? Just, why would I ever let you _anywhere_ near my hair!?”

Yusuke literally stumbles back, hand to his heart, before meekly offering, “But think of what could be done in such a medium, think of the designs I could impart to this unique canvas of yours, how else may I gain this skill for the benefit of – “

“Practice on yourself!” Ryuji snaps.

Morgana tilts his head. “But then he wouldn’t be able to see what he’s doing.”

“ _Don’t take his side!”_

Ann sighs as she leans back on the railing. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a meeting?”

> We’re getting off track.  
>  **> Do it for the art, Ryuji.**

Morgana snickers in agreement. “C’mon Ryuji, don’t get in the way of artistic innovation.”

“ _Dude,”_ Ryuji wails, scandalized.

Bolstered by the support, Yusuke intensifies his stare. “I must offer something spectacular to the gods of art, Ryuji. Do not leave me adrift!”

In the end, the meeting never starts.

* * *

Futaba fidgets, and the reason is not hard to deduce. Every once in a while, she glances towards Yusuke. Every time, Yusuke is staring straight at her. She curls into the far side of the couch but still snaps out, “What?”

“Pardon me,” Yusuke says from his chair, a small bag of baby carrots forgotten in his fist. “I could not help but notice your hair. Is that color natural?”

Ryuji and Ann freeze. It’s harder to read Morgana’s body language, but he goes silent. Makoto, tuned in to the atmosphere, glances around with bewilderment. Futaba frowns and tugs at her hair. “Yeah? I was a shut-in, remember? How would I even get my hair dyed?”

“Just drop it,” Ryuji hisses towards Yusuke.

“Drop what?” Makoto asks, pure, innocent, the unknowing bringer of our doom, and Ann covers her mouth a little too late.

“In my endeavor to study the trade of artistry, I have been made aware of the art of dying hair, and ever since, I have been interested in gaining experience in this particular art form. However, I have yet to find a volunteer to donate themselves as a canvas. I suppose I was wondering if you would be interested?”

Futaba’s eyebrows shoots up. “You can dye hair?”

“He can’t,” Ann says into her knees.

“I intend to create an unprecedented masterpiece in this medium. It will be no simple dye job, but a work the likes of which has never been seen before.”

As Yusuke talked, Makoto’s expression shifted several times, bewildered, confused, doubtful, realization, and now, almost disciplinary. “You can’t expect anybody to agree – “

“That sounds cool,” Futaba interrupts, and the attic drops in temperature. Yusuke, meanwhile, beams enough to drown out the lights. “I always thought it’d be cool to get my hair dyed. And I’m kinda curious about what you’ll come up with. Sojiro won’t like it, but if you get it done before he finds out, then – “

> **> No.**  
>  I won’t allow it.  
>  You’re both grounded.

Futaba gapes for a few seconds, then scowls and snaps, “You’re not my _dad!_ ” And somehow, that sparks almost everybody to chime in with their own thoughts – mostly against the idea – and the attic sounds the most lively it’s ever been since I’ve moved here.

Softly, under the impromptu squabble, barely heard, Ryuji mumbles, “Why’m _I_ the only one who gets made fun of?”


End file.
